


triple time

by tact_and_impulse



Category: Shepherds of Haven - Lena Nguyen
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Denial, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tact_and_impulse/pseuds/tact_and_impulse
Summary: A short interpretation of what was going on in Blade's head during the gala in Chapter 2.
Relationships: Blade Bronwyn/MC
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	triple time

Her hands are small. Of course they are, he’s seen her hands before. But he hasn’t touched them until now, until she asked him to dance at this gala. And she is warm, surprisingly so. It serves to remind him that he needs to be on guard and he leads her through the waltz while keeping a vigilant eye. The song should be short, anyway.

Secretly, he can’t help but feel a little amused by her. She was the one to offer but she doesn’t really know how to dance. Their merchant ally may have provided some advice, but her pulse is increased and occasionally, a silk-covered knee brushes his leg before a murmured apology follows. He doesn’t mind, though they’re in such close quarters. Some of her body heat is probably spreading to him.

She comments on his own skills, and he allows himself to look at her. Her earlier hesitance has disappeared, a smile working up her face as they step and turn. When he spins her, her bright eyes widen but when she faces him again, she’s trying to hold back laughter.

“Dancing is fun!”

“Yes, _fun_.”

“You’re having fun with me, aren’t you?”

He’s about to give another sarcastic answer but her expression is trained on him. Expectant. Hopeful. The slightest trace of nervousness.

She still wants to help him. His gut reaction is that he shouldn’t relax on a mission. However...his demeanor most likely shows that, in front of these nosy, influential nobles. The Captain is trying her best to make him feel comfortable. His chest squeezes. It must be the suit.

She deserves honesty from him, so he is. He does enjoy this, being with her.

Her smile is sweet, and his breath catches, almost making him miss her reply. He’s suddenly self-conscious of his hand resting upon her waist, if it’s too low or not. With how near he is, the scent of her hair is reminiscent of something. Small flowers, like jasmine or lily of the valley. He wants to know, and whether it can grow in the compound’s garden. He wants to know more about her. She’s kind and dutiful and loyal, but outside of work? That day, she mentioned she likes to read epics and she’s naturally curious about the Ket. He wonders what else would give her joy and wonder.

Although the orchestra ceases playing and distant chatter returns, it’s as if he’s suspended in place by her gaze. Her gaze, brimming with concern as she points out that the song’s over.

It is, he vaguely registers. Once he hears his own voice, reality slams back down and he breaks away, letting her go. Enough stalling, Black Sun and a Faceless Lord require the Shepherds’ full attention. The Captain’s confused expression shouldn’t linger in his mind. When he happens to glance at her again, it’s been replaced by subdued professionalism for their imperious host. She isn’t upset, to his relief.

He clasps his hands together but they’re already cold.


End file.
